Chapter 244: Never You, Even if I Die
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 244: Never You, Even if I Die
As beastmen grow, they develop kinetic vision and elastic muscles far superior to those of humans, allowing them to perform movements that effortlessly surpass normal physical limits.
Just like now.
The moment the charging speed of the horse demonic beast matched her own, Dunchabel dug her toes into the earth.
Pressing down, she twisted her body. There was a microscopic gap between the two demonic beasts, and it was her golden eyes that caught it.
Catching it and slipping through was a display of bold, decisive action.
“Aren't you basically a beast anyway?”
Boldly and decisively.
It was one of Rem's core teachings, and Dunchabel remained faithful to it.
She slipped between the two demonic beasts.
Even a slight miscalculation would have cost her her head, but because she was bold, she found the room to breathe. Twisting her body mid-dash, she utilized her superb physical abilities to wedge herself into the narrowest of gaps.
At the same time, she tightened her grip on her scimitar.
The blade, held parallel to the ground, met the demonic beast in a lethal harmony.
Skrrrrrch!
The muscles in her right arm strained under the massive load, but she had prepared for this from the start. She held her ground, bracing her right wrist with her left hand.
The crossing happened in an instant, and Dunchabel's response was just as immediate. No, she had fixed the position of her scimitar from the moment she leaped, and the effect was devastating.
The blade sliced horizontally through the demonic beast's flank.
It was a miracle the weapon held, considering it wasn't a magic artifact. It was a maneuver that could have easily shattered the steel, but Dunchabel had expected this outcome.
‘Apply force to the blade—a cutting edge designed to withstand horizontal pressure.’
Her scimitar had a thick spine. As was typical for a mercenary's weapon, it prioritized sturdiness over razor-sharpness. Right now, thanks to her formidable speed, a lack of sharpness didn't matter.
The blade sliced through the demonic beast's body and emerged on the other side.
Splaaat!
She was moving so fast that the black blood and entrails of the falling beast trailed behind her like a long, grisly path. Flesh, blood, and fragments of bone lay stretched across the ground—a grotesque masterpiece of carnage.
“Phew!”
Dunchabel exhaled the breath she had been holding and inhaled deeply. Then, she immediately pivoted.
Horses are not animals that can easily reverse their direction. That was a physical limitation that remained unchanged even after they became demonic beasts.
Dunchabel dug her right foot into the ground to pivot, changing direction as she dashed forward again. The demonic beast that had grazed past her realized it had missed its target and began a wide, clumsy turn.
Neigh!
The beast let out a distorted whinny and veered left to charge again. Dunchabel, running to intercept it, swung her scimitar from top to bottom, putting the full elasticity of her body into the strike.
From a distance, the slash looked as if she were swinging through empty air. But because the demonic beast charged directly into its trajectory, it became a perfect, decapitating blow.
Thud!
Splatter, thud! Thud!
The headless carcass of the demonic beast rolled across the ground. Its head flew backward and crashed into the dirt. The black blood sprayed into the air, raining down on Dunchabel. It looked as if her white hair was being dotted with black ink.
Dunchabel flicked her scimitar to clear the gore and dashed forward once more.
Following her slaughter of the two horse demonic beasts, a pack of human-faced dogs lunged at her. Without losing an ounce of momentum, Dunchabel's scimitar began to dance.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
The crescent-shaped weapon swept fiercely from side to side. With every stroke, the necks, forepaws, and skulls of the human-faced dogs were severed.
“What is that weapon you're holding?”
Rem always started with a question and ended with violence. Dunchabel had to find the answer herself in the space between.
There was even a day she had nearly crossed the river of death and back just because she had tried to use a thrust with her scimitar.
“Do you not think about the utility of your weapon? Is a beastman's head really filled with nothing but thoughts of breeding? For the record, if you strip naked and come at me, I'll split you in half with my axe.”
Even breeding required some level of mutual attraction. Not in a million years would it be Rem.
Dunchabel let out a battle cry fueled by the memory.
“Never you, even if I die!”
What wasn't it? The watching soldiers wore bewildered expressions, but what did that matter?
With that shout, the curved crescent blade danced a dance of slaughter.
Chunks of the human-faced dogs' heads and torsos flew through the air. To the soldiers' eyes, the movement of the blade was invisible. Whenever a line was drawn in the air, severed pieces of monster flesh simply rose.
Only the results were visible; the process was entirely skipped. The threatened soldiers might have breathed a sigh of relief, but...
“Formation!”
These were the Border Guard standing army—men trained by Encrid.
Do your best where you stand.
It was a phrase constantly on Encrid's lips. And they did just that.
At the shout of the soldier acting as their commander, they quickly formed up. As it happened, they were all holding spears. Standing in a single horizontal line, they leveled their points forward.
If a horse demonic beast charged, it would be skewered on the spot. It wasn't as if dozens were charging; if it was only three or four...
‘We can handle this.’
It wasn't arrogance, but confidence. After all, who were the instructors they had been facing all this time? Dunchabel, right before their eyes, was one of them.
“Damn it!” one of the soldiers shouted.
He had just spotted two horse demonic beasts charging toward their group. They couldn't do what Dunchabel did. Instead, they thrust their spears forward and braced themselves. The horse demonic beasts, seemingly trusting in the sturdiness of their own bodies, plowed straight ahead.
“De-flect!” the commanding soldier shouted right on cue.
A heavy impact reverberated through the spearheads, making the soldiers feel as if the muscles in their arms were being wrung like wet rags.
The group pushed their spear shafts outward to the left and right from the center. Crack! The spear shafts embedded in the demonic beasts snapped. One soldier, left holding only half a shaft, tumbled forward.
Taking a head-on impact directly was foolish.
“Would you face a cavalry charge the same way?”
Those were the words of Instructor Ragna. He didn't teach them kindly, but every word he spoke was like a sharp blade. A blade that seemed impossible to come from his languid eyes and lazy attitude—the soldiers took it to heart.
If they hadn't, they would have died. After all, they had to face the half-giant Teresa charging at them during training; what other choice did they have?
The soldiers fought with all their might. Had it not been for their usual training, it would have been impossible, but the charge of the two horse demonic beasts was successfully thwarted. Instead of receiving the force head-on, they redirected it to the side. This was only fundamentally possible because of their robust physical strength—bodies that had been thoroughly broken down and forged by Audin.
That was what made this moment possible.
“Fuck. That actually worked. Ptu.”
A soldier spat on the head of the demonic beast that lay thrashing on its side, a broken spear shaft embedded halfway into its body.
“Screeech!”
Driven mad, the horse demonic beast bared its fangs even though more than half of the shaft was buried in its chest. Black tears of blood streamed from its bloodshot eyes.
Seeing that, the soldier's knees instinctively shook. It wasn't their first time dealing with monsters, and unless they were facing overwhelming numbers, they wouldn't normally tremble over a single beast. But the creature before them was not normal. Something was different.
Naturally, there was no time to think.
“Damn it! No time to gawk!”
Another soldier thrust his spear forward, striking the demonic beast's head. The spearhead pierced the skull with a sickening crack.
Now, it was the pack of human-faced dogs. There were too many for Dunchabel to handle alone. In the end, the soldiers had to fight as well.
They wouldn't die. They could endure this. These were men forged by Encrid's training. If they had been elite soldiers before, they could now be called mighty. Putting aside tactical coordination, their individual capabilities had developed to an astonishing degree.
Of the three soldiers who had lost their spears, one drew a shortsword. Another drew an arming sword, while the last held the half-broken spear shaft. There was even a soldier swinging his bow like a club.
“Damn it!”
Though curses continuously spilled from their mouths, they fought well. They struck, stabbed, and beat the approaching dogs to death. They formed a defensive circle to protect one another, slowly backing away. They believed that if they held out just a little longer, reinforcements would arrive.
Dunchabel fought even better. Her scimitar had transformed into a crescent-shaped guillotine. She was literally running wild.
With the horse demonic beasts dealt with, only the pack of human-faced dogs remained. She slashed whenever she saw an opening, punching and kicking away any that dared to draw close. Every movement was incredibly fast and powerful, highlighting the light, elastic play of her muscles. Yet, she didn't seem tired.
It was a monstrous display of martial prowess. It truly made one understand why they were called the Mad Company.
By the time she had slaughtered about half of the human-faced dogs, the remaining half should have backed away in fear, but they continued to pounce as if under a curse of frenzy.
“Kaaat!”
“Grrr!”
The grating cries of the human-faced dogs assaulted her ears. As she fought, Dunchabel heard a strange vibration coming from the direction of the forest.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
It was a heavy, weighty sound. The sound of hooves?
Then, a black shadow burst out from the forest. It was twice as fast as the horse demonic beasts. Above all, it was not a horse. It resembled one, but it was something else entirely.
Horses did not have hands, and they couldn't be given weapons.
The massive figure, holding a club fashioned from a cut log, swung it wildly.
Whoosh!
The heavy wooden club swept over her head. Had she not ducked reflexively, her head would have exploded. At the very least, her stance would have been shattered.
Taking advantage of her ducked posture, Dunchabel rolled forward, diving into the pack of human-faced dogs. Excited, the creatures bared their sharp fangs, their wrinkled faces twisting.
She parried, shoved, and struck most of them, but she failed to block one. The creature opened its maw. Dunchabel offered her forearm guard to its bite, grabbed its head, and swung it like a club.
Whoosh!
Thud! Bam! Crash!
Fending off three or four more in this manner, she stabbed her scimitar into the torso of the one biting her forearm and sliced downward. Spilling entrails and black blood drenched the ground. Even so, its teeth remained embedded in her guard.
‘What a nuisance.’
Meanwhile, the creature that had targeted her turned back around. She had wondered if it was a cavalryman, but this, too, was a monster.
A Centaur—a twisted fusion of man and horse. Its lower body was that of a horse, while its upper body resembled a human's. Its bare torso boasted solid, writhing chest muscles that made her feel sick just looking at them.
“What a fucking mess,” Dunchabel muttered.
The creature charged fiercely once more, holding its thick wooden club.
Thud-thud-thud! Crack, crash! Thwack!
It rushed forward, completely ignoring the human-faced dogs blocking its path, trampling them until their heads burst and bones shattered.
Whoosh!
The club sliced through the air once more. Dunchabel dodged by leaning her body backward. It was a close call.
The only saving grace was that the creature had cleared out the human-faced dogs, giving her a brief moment to breathe...
“Oh, shit.”
There was no time. It wasn't alone. Several more were bursting out of the forest.
“Kiyoooo!”
Several of the Centaurs let out battle cries. Their solid red eyes, devoid of pupils, stared directly at Dunchabel. A few of them turned their gazes toward the group of soldiers.
‘I want to live.’
She wanted to live so desperately. It was a yearning. When had this yearning first developed? After meeting Encrid, it had suddenly burst forth like a broken dam. For that was the nature of the yearning for life—it bound a person at the most unexpected moments.
She needed to see that bastard Encrid's face again.
Should she run away? Would that be okay? He wouldn't blame her.
But...
‘Them.’
Encrid memorized every single one of the soldiers' names. She hadn't even memorized five of them yet.
Was it right to leave them to die when she could save them? Was it right for her to survive, or was it right to risk her life to save them?
There was no correct answer. Just like life itself, there was only a choice.
Was surviving alone truly the best path?
Encrid, Encrid, Encrid.
It was a name she found herself repeating instinctively. She wanted to join that group. She wanted to be someone who belonged among them.
Then, was surviving miserably alone truly what he would have wanted? Was that what a member of that group would do? Was that the best she could do?
The man named Encrid always moved in pursuit of his best. After witnessing that, what had she decided she wanted to do?
The rightness or wrongness of the choice was not something to weigh right now; she simply had to move. She cleared her mind of all stray thoughts.
Afterward, Dunchabel focused on a single thought.
‘Did I ever thank him for accepting me?’
She didn't think she had. She would survive and tell him thank you. Not just surviving, but surviving in the way he would want her to.
The train of thought was long, but in reality, it took only an instant. In moments of crisis, the brain naturally kicked into overdrive. Having made her choice and reached a conclusion, Dunchabel acted.
“Look at me!”
Dunchabel shouted, activating her unique transformation. An intense aura enveloped the surroundings. Her golden eyes locked onto the Centaurs.
In a brief moment, fur sprouted, and Dunchabel, taking on the aspect of a lioness, let out a low, deep growl.
“Grrrrr.”
With a sound that would grate on any enemy's ears, Dunchabel leaped in front of the nearest Centaur and swung her scimitar.
Whoosh!
Centaurs were riders and cavalrymen far superior to any human rider. The creature twisted its upper body. Its lower body shifted in tandem, dodging the blade. It was a feat a mounted human cavalryman could never dream of.
Dunchabel swung her scimitar with her right hand, and the moment the creature dodged, she lashed out with her left. Her blade-like claws raked across the Centaur's eyes.
“Aaargh!”
A scream rang out.
“Follow me, you sons of bitches!”
Was she speaking to the pack of human-faced dogs, or to the Centaurs? The watching soldiers couldn't ask.
Dunchabel plunged straight into the forest, and the pack of Centaurs gave chase. The pack of human-faced dogs followed suit.
The soldiers had survived.
Centaurs were notoriously difficult to deal with, even among intermediate monsters. In particular, when they formed a colony, they were widely reputed to be more dangerous than flying monsters.
“...This is bad,” one of the surviving soldiers muttered.
* * *
“So, you're saying it's been four days since Dunchabel disappeared into the forest?”
Four days after Dunchabel's disappearance, the Border Guard sent reinforcements. The swift vanguard arrived first—a small, single company.
At the company commander's question, the soldier nodded.
“Yes.”
“And now the Centaurs have formed a colony and occupied the plains in front of the forest?”
“Indeed,” this answer was given by the new Castellan of Martai, the former Border Guard Captain.
Everyone watched Encrid's expression. It was his usual expressionless face.
Yet, for some reason, it looked as though he was furious.